


SHAMPAIN

by kairiolette



Category: Free!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-03 03:04:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5274095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kairiolette/pseuds/kairiolette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Haru had known that the team’s tournament after-party wouldn’t be dry, he just hadn’t expected to knock back what he thought had been water but what went down like some dizzying mixture of chlorine and hand sanitizer.” (RHweek2015, day 1: firsts)</p>
            </blockquote>





	SHAMPAIN

**Author's Note:**

> CW: mild alcohol consumption  
> & [here](http://kairiolette.tumblr.com/post/133826923547/shampain) on tumblr!

Haru had known that the team’s tournament afterparty wouldn’t be dry, he just hadn’t expected to knock back what he thought had been water but what went down like some dizzying mixture of chlorine and hand sanitizer. So he sits outside on the stoop of the house, sucking in fresh air through a grimace, while the aftertaste sits in the back of his throat like mold on bread. He hears the front door open behind him, followed by footsteps.

“Are you drunk now, Haru?” asks Rin before sitting beside him, balancing with his hand on Haru’s shoulder as he squats down. A mix of pity and amusement radiates through his smile, and Haru can’t tell which is more annoying. He rests his temple against his knee.

“I don’t know,” he says, noticing the glass in Rin’s hand, filled with a clear-cream liquid. He clamps down a gag as bubbles fizzle up the walls of it. “Are you?”

“No,” Rin scoffs. But even Haru can tell he’s looser than he had been when they arrived—something about the elementary-school way he smiles, cheery and ceaseless. Rin settles next to him, stretching his legs out past the last of the stairs. Haru wonders if the world spins for Rin like it does for him. “That was your first drink, wasn’t it?”

“And last,” Haru mumbles, swallowing a swell of bile. Rin smiles, then takes a sip from his glass. He doesn't cringe, Haru notices, watching the seamless bob of his throat. “Is that yours?”

Rin licks his lips, frowning at his glass.

“I’ve only had a little before. Wouldn’t want to make a habit out of it,” he explains, in what Haru thinks is a very Rin way. He swirls his drink around without it sloshing over the sides, but a slight nudge of his elbow almost topples Haru over. “Vodka isn’t too great of a first drink, huh?”

Haru presses his fists to his eyes, his mouth feeling desert-parched despite the near gallon of water he had almost drowned himself in just moments before.

“Is that what I had?” he asks, watching stars slide behind his eyelids. Rin tries to stifle laughter in a high-pitched snort. He pats Haru on the shoulder, which doesn’t do much to comfort him.

“You’re a lightweight, aren’t you?” he teases, yet he’s the one giggling, knocking his elbow into Haru’s again.

“I’m fine,” Haru grumbles, resting his cheek on his knee again. He finds it all too easy to muster a sour frown, aimed in Rin’s direction.

“Don’t take it out on me,” he replies readily, mimicking Haru’s curled-up position on the stairs. His cheek squishes against his knee cap, his impish grin makes his eyes nearly close. He looks like he’s either about to tell Haru a secret or make fun of him again. Instead, he nudges Haru, gentler and shoulder to shoulder.

“Why don’t you try this instead?” He gestures his drink toward Haru, eyebrows raised. “Just a sip.”

Haru stares at the glass, the shimmery liquid inside it, then looks back up at Rin warily. He can hardly believe that anything in a glass at this house could be worth just-a-sipping.

“Don’t make that face!” Rin urges, chuckling too giddily at Haru’s misfortune. He holds it out closer to Haru’s mouth. “This tastes alright. It’s champagne.”

Haru takes the glass, fingers stiffly gripping the stem below Rin’s own. Snorting at his delayed movement, Rin doesn’t let go of the glass but tips it against Haru’s mouth, much more carefully than Haru could have, until the rim of it sets against his bottom lip. Haru, dizzy, lets his hand fall back into his lap. He wrinkles his nose as the gilded liquid sizzles on his tongue, swishes around past his teeth. It has an unmistakable bite that makes him want to recoil. But there’s something bubbly about it, and there’s something warm about taking a sip out of Rin’s glass. The world corkscrews again once Haru swallows and he sways against Rin, trying to still his whirling head with the firm of Rin’s shoulder.

“Maybe I am drunk,” he says, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. He smells sweet cologne and sweeter champagne. Rin chuckles; the sound of it buzzes through him.

“I don’t want to have to carry you home,” Rin mumbles. Haru takes a deep breath of cold air and shifts his cheek.

“You won’t,” he insists, and he realizes it’s Rin’s hand on his back, rubbing circles as dizzy as his eyes feel when he opens them. “Let’s go swimming.”

Rin hums, shoulder jumping in a breath of a laugh. This close to Rin, he can hear him better; with his ear pressed to his shoulder, an exhale sounds like a gust of wind.

“You’re too careless,” Rin replies sternly, though he takes another sip. Haru reaches for the flute as it touches Rin’s lips.

“Do you like it?” Rin asks, pursed lips stretching into a grin as his eyes flit downward to meet Haru’s, and for a moment Haru has no idea what he’s talking about. Then he looks back down to the glass he just took into his hand.

“I need to wash away the taste,” Haru explains, and he can’t even bring himself to say vodka lest it materialize in his mouth like a summoned demon.

“Washing away alcohol with more alcohol,” Rin tuts, shaking his head, his chin skimming Haru’s hair. Haru closes his eyes as Rin pries the unsipped glass from his fingers. “This is the start of a bad habit, Haru.”

His head on Rin’s shoulder feels like a worse one. He shuts his eyes hard enough to see galaxies.

“Have you ever been drunk before, Rin?” Haru asks. Rin scoffs; Haru peers up at him to see the rim of his glass pressed to his smirking lips, cheek dimpled.

“Do I look like someone who would get drunk?” he asks, indignant, and Haru tries to imagine it. Rin can’t be very far from it now; his laughter comes like he doesn’t have to think about it and even his shoulder feels pliant under Haru’s weight. He makes an angry grumble of a noise, but Haru is sure it’s filtered through another smile. “Don’t think that hard about it.”

Rin’s hand gives a reproachful squeeze to the nape of his neck, and Haru can't think that hard about anything. He lifts his hundred pound head to make sure he still can. Rin leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, face lifted up toward the sky.

“The stars aren’t really out tonight,” he notes through a disappointed sigh, and then perks up, looking over his shoulder at Haru. Sympathy tugs at his eyebrows. “Your eyes are shinier than normal, though.”

Haru resists the urge to rub them, or to let them fall shut and let himself rock into Rin again. Haru guesses he must be making some wretched expression because Rin makes a clicking noise with his tongue and promises, “It’ll fade soon, Haru.”

“I feel fine,” Haru says again, and he does; he feels faded, tingly and ungrounded in a way that makes him too glad that Rin’s close by. Rin smiles at him.

“Let’s leave,” Haru says after a moment. Their surroundings seem to twist and furl around them, but Rin stays constant and luminous, like the eye of a hurricane.

“The party?” Rin asks, surprisingly curious, “And go where?”

“The pool,” Haru replies easily. Rin leans back against his hand, head tilted toward Haru and mouth pursed in a frown.

“We’re always there,” he scolds, eyebrows furrowing, and his next question sounds like a game, “where else?”

“Anywhere,” Haru says. Rin chuckles, reaching over and squeezing Haru’s cheeks between his thumb and forefinger.

“Too careless,” he warns again, then takes pity on his squished face and releases him. He prods Haru’s cheek with his knuckle, “Your face is pink, you drunkard.”

“It’s because you pinched me,” Haru argues. Rin relents anyway with a final nudge under his chin. He stands up from the stoop, leaving Haru cold and lopsided.

“If you’re not hungover, we can go to the pool first thing tomorrow instead,” he promises, music to Haru’s intoxicated ears, and he holds out a hand. It takes Haru a few tries to grasp it, but once he does, Rin yanks him up. As he rises his foot slips down to the stair below, his fall cut short once again by Rin’s shoulder.

“Too drunk to even stand,” Rin teases, laughing and swaying with Haru, one step up from him and way too tall for Haru’s liking. Rin’s hands grip his arms, slide up to his shoulders and then back again. Haru glares at Rin, chin upturned.

“It’s your fault,” he manages, wobbling when Rin releases his shoulders.

“That one sip really did a number on you,” he laughs. The glass in his grip has less than a ounce left in it; with a flutter of eyelashes he holds it up to Haru again, challenging, “Finish it off?”

“Bad habit,” Haru warns in a breath, but he licks his lips, lets Rin, with his close careful attention, bring his glass to them again.

“Then we’ll knock it after this,” Rin says, wetting Haru’s lips with the last drop, catching a spill just under his mouth with the rim of the glass. Haru wonders if Rin will admit to being so reckless tomorrow, though he guesses it takes two.

“Where are we going?” he asks after swallowing with a wince, realizing that they had stood up but have not made to move anywhere. Rin considers him, eyes catching the porchlight like glitter, his bottom lip shining just as much. Pins-and-needles course through Haru’s veins and he brashly wants to taste what makes Rin’s mouth moist; the thought nearly sends him slipping down the stairs again. Rin rattles his empty glass, shaking loose droplets.

“Inside,” he decides, tugging Haru’s arm until he takes the two heavy steps up. He had forgotten the party behind them. “Let's go. Before they start to wonder.”

“Wonder what,” Haru says, and Rin’s hand slips from his arm to the bare skin of his wrist, glancing over his shoulder with a snort before entering the house once more.

“Wonder what,” he says again, shakily letting Rin guide him inside, his rare warm laughter like another sip.


End file.
